


Coda

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Other Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-05
Updated: 2006-03-05
Packaged: 2018-08-16 00:46:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8080195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: And Matthew makes three. Missing scenes, 3.23 "Countdown." Reed/m. (05/26/2004)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Spoilers, 3.18 "Azati Prime," 3.22 "The Council," 3.23 "Countdown."  
  
I realize that part of this may not jibe with what was shown in the episode, but apparently Malcolm Reed tells the other MACOs that "Sergeant Kemper is going to be fine," which to my mind definitely implies that something happened to him. And darn it, but the MACO with Hoshi looks enough like Kemper to make it work for me. ;-> Hell, I wouldn't even have to make up stuff like this if TPTB could keep their freaking canon straightâ€”even within the same episode.  
  
I also want to thank Lara Bee for creating "Crystal," the burn- healing jellyfish. (My version is a little AU to hers.) Crystal appears in Lara's story "To Touch the Sky." And if you're curious about when it was that Trip got burned, you can check out that segment of Squeaky's awesome Deep Wounds series. Finally, this story refers to my earlier fic, "Blood, Darkness, Death, and Love."  


* * *

Malcolm Reed had always disliked sickbay, despite how many times he himself had been healed here, how many lives Phlox had managed to save. Since Azati Prime, he had come to hate it. It only represented death to him now—death and pain.

A few bio beds over from where he was heading, Ensign Sato was being prepared for her journey on Degra's ship. Apparently, Phlox was going to teach him how to continue Hoshi's treatment en route to the Xindi weapon. Malcolm wasn't much looking forward to that. He didn't want to make a mistake, hated to think he might do her any harm. But they didn't have a choice—she'd been on the weapon. What she remembered about it could be vital. They didn't have the luxury of waiting until she fully recovered.

They didn't have the luxury of any time at all.

Malcolm turned away from Hoshi's bio bed, continuing to the one that held Joshua Kemper. He only paused for a second before pulling back the privacy curtain and walking through. It would be easy enough for Phlox to find him.

Joshua was shirtless, lying on his stomach with one of Phlox's medicinal creatures was on his back. It was like a jellyfish, gelatinous and translucent blue. It pulsed ever so slightly, as if with some invisible heartbeat. Thin tendrils snaked away from the main body, curving randomly over Joshua's undamaged skin, as high up as his neck and shoulders. One tiny strand had burrowed somewhere in the sergeant's hair.

The burn wound the creature was healing was a narrow valley across Joshua's back, deep red and ugly. It was just a graze, Phlox had told Malcolm—Painful, temporarily debilitating, but nothing worse than that. Joshua was going to be just fine.

Two centimeters deeper and the weapon blast would have killed him, gouged out a furrow in his spine and lungs. Malcolm tried not to think about that.

Joshua was facing him, seemingly asleep. He looked terribly young.

Malcolm stepped closer, reaching to touch him, but the creature twitched suddenly, sending ripples out through its tendrils, and Malcolm drew his hand back. You couldn't touch a patient when this particular creature was healing them—he remembered Phlox telling him that once, when Trip had been badly burned.

Joshua opened his eyes. "Hi," he said, and smiled.

"Hello," Malcolm said. "How are you feeling?" He did his best to smile normally, as if nothing was wrong. He wasn't sure he managed it, but Joshua didn't seem to notice. "I'm afraid I can't stay long. I just wanted to...See how you were."

Joshua considered the question. "Kind of itches," he said. His smile widened. "It's good to see you." He reached for Malcolm, sliding his hand along the bio bed.

The jellyfish thing began pulsing a little more quickly, and the blue color changed to yellow around the edges. A tendril detached from his back, rose up as if testing the air.

Malcolm took a small step back. "You should lie still," he said gently. "You're upsetting Crys."

Joshua blinked sleepily. "Crys?" He sounded a little muzzy, which Malcolm knew came from the creature—it produced a powerful natural anesthetic and sedative.

"One of Phlox's living remedies," Malcolm said. "He calls it "Crystal." It's on your back now. Can you feel it?"

Joshua blinked again, then gave a slow, loose smile. "There's an animal on my back?" He asked, chuckling. "That's wild." He reached for Malcolm again, and the yellow color spread further inward, toward Crys's center. Two more tendrils lifted up, swiveling directly to face Malcolm. Joshua suddenly hissed in pain.

"Lie still." Malcolm still spoke quietly, but slipped an edge of command into his voice. "It will stop hurting."

"Yes, sir," Joshua said automatically. He grimaced, but stopped moving. Almost immediately Crys quieted, settling back into the soothing blue. The tendrils flattened against his skin.

"It's empathic," Malcolm explained. "If you reach for me, it thinks it has to, as well. You're confusing it, that's why it hurts. It doesn't know what to do."

"Okay," Joshua said. "Sorry." He was relaxing as his pain lessened, his breathing evening out.

"You don't have to apologize," Malcolm said. "I just don't want you to be in pain." It took a great deal of self-control to keep his arms rigid at his sides.

"It's funny," Joshua said. "But I don't even remember getting hit. It didn't even hurt."

"It was likely the adrenaline," Malcolm said, "that kept you from feeling it." His thoughts skittered immediately, involuntarily, to Matthew—being shot, burned. Dying in terrible pain.

Two centimeters, just two, and that would have been Joshua as well.

Malcolm suddenly felt like he didn't have enough oxygen, then was surprised his breath hitched when he inhaled. His fingers twitched, the need to touch Joshua almost overwhelming. "I'm so glad you made it back."

"Me too," Joshua said. He sighed. "Wish I could touch you."

"Later," Malcolm said. He swallowed, gathering up his control. Matthew was dead, but Joshua was here, was safe. Right now that was all that mattered. "Later. I promise." _If I live,_ he added silently. But he would, that was all. He had to. He wouldn't leave Joshua alone.

"Okay..." Joshua smiled again, his eyes drifting shut. For a second, just a second, he looked like Trip, like all the times Malcolm had ever watched Trip sleeping. It made Malcolm's heart clench with an entirely different ache. But then Joshua's eyes snapped open and it was gone.

"Ensign Sato!" Joshua looked at Malcolm, eyes imploring. Crys took on the faintest yellow tinge, responding to the sergeant's concern. "Is she all right?"

_Dear God. Not this. Not now._ "She's fine," Malcolm said quickly. He stepped closer, reaching out with his hand. He caught himself and yanked it back to his side. "Phlox says she'll make a complete recovery."

"Thank God," Joshua sounded relieved, but Crys's color didn't change. "And the others?" He asked. "They made it back, right?" He looked as desperately hopeful as a child.

"Yes," Malcolm said, because it was the truth, after all. He fought to keep his voice neutral, to betray nothing of what he felt. There was no time for this. He had to leave. "Everyone made it back."

Joshua's eyes widened, and Malcolm cursed himself, that he could be so easily read. Crys turned a deeper shade of yellow. "That's not true, is it?" Joshua asked. His hand closed into a fist. "That's not true—someone else got hurt. You just don't want to tell me."

Malcolm resisted the urge to drop his gaze, look away. Crys's undulation was speeding up. The translucent yellow was swirling now, taking on a sickly greenish tinge. "Joshua," he tried, "you shouldn't—"

"Who is it? Tell me!" The demand was a near shout, and Joshua levered himself up on shaking arms. He paled, features tightening in pain but looking no less determined. "Tell me, please," he said.

"Hayes," Malcolm said. "Matthew Hayes was hurt." He prayed Joshua wouldn't ask the next question.

But Joshua didn't need to. Malcolm supposed it was all there, on his face, telling the sergeant everything.

"No," Joshua whispered. He shook his head, expression set and angry. "No. He can't be dead. Not him. _Not him_!" He started panting, clenching his eyes shut in distress and pain. "Please. He can't be dead. He can't be."

Joshua's arms gave out, and Malcolm lunged forward unthinkingly, grabbing him and lowering him back to the bio bed. Crys turned gray, pulsing frantically. Joshua shuddered, cried out. The bio bed's sensors bleated in alarm.

Malcolm let go instantly, moving back. He nearly collided with Phlox, who merely brushed past him, hurrying to his patient. Phlox pressed a hypospray to Joshua's neck, and Malcolm heard the minute hiss of it working.

Joshua went lax almost at once, limp on the bio bed, his breath slowing to the rhythm of sleep. The alarm shut off. On Joshua's back, Crys's color changed from gray back to yellow, finally returning to the tranquil blue.

Phlox glared at Malcolm. "That was quite foolish, Lieutenant."

"Yes it was," Malcolm said curtly. He ran his hand over his eyes, dropped it back to his side. He regarded Phlox coolly. "I believe you had some instructions about Ensign Sato?"

"Yes," Phlox nodded. He glanced at Joshua. "Does he know you're going into battle?"

"We're all going into battle," Malcolm snapped. "We've been in a battle for a very long time. About Hoshi?" He asked pointedly.

Phlox stared at him, then turned, going back through the privacy curtain. Malcolm followed him.

* * *

The power was back up on his deck, which was nice. But he had the lights set to only quarter illumination. There wasn't really anything right now that he wanted to see.

Joshua Kemper was sitting on the floor in his quarters—he was sure the desk chair would never get replaced—with his legs crossed and his back to the wall. His back hurt, the kind of itchy hurt of a healing burn. He should really have still been in sickbay, Phlox had implied as much when he'd discharged Joshua to his quarters. But there were a hell of a lot of people more injured than he was, spilling out into the corridor, even. Phlox had needed the bio bed. And Joshua had been just as glad to get out of there, to get that thing off his back.

When he'd asked Phlox where Malcolm was, Phlox said he'd left hours ago, with Ensign Sato, three other MACOs, and the captain. They were going to blow up the weapon, somehow get into it and sabotage it from the inside.

Phlox had no idea when they'd be back. He didn't say 'if' they'd be back, but he didn't have to.

Joshua was holding Nathan's combat knife by the butt and the blade tip, gently turning it between his two hands. The blade reflected what light there was, shining almost prettily. Nathan's blood was darker, a thin textured shadow against the metal. He'd been vaporized, Malcolm had said. This was the only physical remnant left of him.

Jacob had his skull crushed by a falling girder, dead so fast it must have been like a light going out; no time to even feel it, to even know what was happening. At least a death like that was kind.

Joshua didn't know how Matthew had died. Malcolm had only said he'd been hurt, but maybe it meant he'd died in a lot of pain.

"I hope not," Joshua whispered into the semi-darkness. "I hope not, Matthew." He remembered Matthew's broken leg, back on F deck when the ship was coming apart. The major had been in agony. Joshua couldn't stand to think of him dying like that. He didn't even know if Matthew had made it all the way to sick bay. But surely Phlox would have helped him, anyway. Given him something for the pain.

Malcolm was gone now, too, to destroy the weapon before it reached Earth. And he was probably going to die. Just like Jacob, and Nathan. Just like Matthew.

Those few minutes in sickbay were most likely the last time Joshua would ever see him. He hadn't even known Malcolm was saying goodbye.

He turned the knife again. The point of the blade made a tiny indentation in the palm of his left hand. All he had to do was push, just a little bit, and he'd pierce the skin.

He pushed the knife, just a little bit. It stung, but only barely. The knife was very sharp.

He pulled the blade away, watched impassively as a dark red bead welled up in the center of his hand, spilled over, traced a line down to his wrist.

For the first time, Joshua understood why someone would cut himself, why Nathan had done it.

Gently, he touched the blade tip to the puncture wound, felt it catch on the edge of the broken skin, felt the tiny burn as the skin parted on either side.

And he thought about it: about tracing the line his blood had made, with the knife, all the way down his hand.

He sat in the near dark, the knife pressed to his stinging skin, and thought about it for a long time.


End file.
